


There's an Eerie Quiet.

by jacketwithpatches



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, I wrote this to hurt you, Other, Pain, elias gets presumably hurt, jon gets hurt, og!elias, there's literally no comfort there's only pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28490991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacketwithpatches/pseuds/jacketwithpatches
Summary: Content warnings: mentions of smoking weed
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	There's an Eerie Quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Content warnings: mentions of smoking weed

It was a lovely afternoon in London. It had been rather miserable that morning, the sky slated with grey clouds and the streets awhirl with a harsh wind. Over the course of the day, though, the sky had yielded to a pleasant golden sun and gentle breeze. The air was warm and crisp, and occasionally a red or brown leaf that had fallen from the park would blow by the window. 

Too bad Elias was stuck inside for another twenty three minutes. Too bad he was devastatingly bored because he didn’t exactly want to do the task he’d been assigned, and Jon wasn’t there to urge him along because he’d gone to get tea. He flopped sideways into the swivel chair that sat by a library computer, which was horribly outdated. Not that anything in the institute was up to date in any sense. Elias fluffed his hair, which was blond and threatening to grey. Mostly, though, it looked like a dirty brown was taking it over, so he never complained. 

“Did you not do a single one?” Jon grumbled, looking at the stack of books that needed replaced stickers. 

“Nope!” Elias grinned, sounding almost proud of himself and sitting up straight in the chair. He reached for his mug of tea, which Jon pulled away from him. 

“You’re insufferable.” Jon rolled his eyes, setting both the teacups at the far end of the table. “Get at least one done, first, we haven’t got long until clocking out.” 

“Right,  _ you _ get to go home then.” Elias rolled his eyes. “I’ve got that meeting with Wright.” 

“You sure you don’t want me to stay for that?” Jon asked. “I’m happy to stick around and walk you to the station after, goodness knows I can occupy myself doing your share of this.” 

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Elias laughed, reaching and sliding his tea over to his spot at the table before peeling off the old sticker of a book and replacing it. Jon frowned at him. 

“After everything you’ve been complaining about- everything he’s been saying, you’re really just going to go in there alone?” Jon argued. 

“Listen, dude, he’s probably just mad that I came in zooted last week.” Elias assured his friend. 

“As if you don’t do that at least once every week. Speaking of, are you-?” Jon raised an eyebrow. 

“Not right now, no. I was planning on it after this meeting, but I figured it’s probably best to go in sober for that.” The blond replied, running his hand through his hair again. Truth be told, he was uneasy about the meeting James Wright had proposed to him. Not that he was in a position to say no, not really. It was just...weird. The institute’s head had been making odd, offhand comments about how nice Elias’s body was, about how good looking his eyes were. He’d gone as far as to ask Elias about family medical history, blood pressure, but especially eyesight. It all seemed so random, and he didn’t have a good feeling about it. 

“Right, well, I hope  _ you  _ have fun with it.” Jon said, then sighed. “Listen, are you sure? You really don’t look too good. If you backed out, nobody could really blame you.” 

“I guess not, but I really should try to keep this job.” Elias shrugged halfheartedly. “I’ll keep my phone on me, if he tries anything I’ll call someone. I’ll call the police, or you, or maybe even that guy you made goo-goo eyes at this morning.” 

Jon turned bright red. 

“Hush. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said indignantly. 

“Oh, c’mon Sims. The strawberry blond in the blue jumper, don’t try and tell me you weren’t looking at him all dreamy like.” 

“I was not!” Jon protested, though his reluctant smile gave him away. Someone had in fact dropped into the institute earlier in the day, supposedly to talk with someone about submitting a job application. And though Jon would never admit it to anyone, the guy had been kind of cute. 

“Oh sure,” Elias said sarcastically, winking playfully at Jon and taking another sip of tea. 

“Ten more minutes and I am  _ leaving. _ ” Jon scoffed jokingly. “I meant it when I said you were insufferable.” 

“I know.” Elias’s face returned to that resting sly grin. “I make a point to be.” 

“Of course you do.” Jon rolled his eyes again. “I swear I’m allergic to you.” 

“Oh, you really think so?” Elias raised an eyebrow. 

“I do,” Jon said, grabbing Elias’s hand only to fake sneeze into it. 

“Oi!” Elias laughed, wiping the hand against his pants. “That’s the hand I was gonna use to shake Mister Wright’s when I get up there!” 

“Damn, I suppose you’ll have to not touch him at all, then.” Jon said, a smile still lingering on his face. 

“God forbid!” Elias laughed, glancing at the clock. “Welp, that’s five. You’re good to go now if you want, I’ll give you a call after this to let you know how it goes.” 

“Reassuring, thank you.” Jon said, quickly finishing off the rest of his tea and pulling his coat out of his bag. “Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Yep, will do!” Elias said as he hopped out of his chair and started towards the library door. He held it open for Jon, and then they turned their separate ways. 

As Jon punched his ticket and opened the front door of the Magnus Institute, he was unsettled by the quiet. He felt as though there ought to be the sounds of conversation, even faint chitter chatter from somewhere, and there was nothing at all. 

In fact, there continued to be nothing. He rode the train back to his flat, and there was no call from Elias. He made himself a stir fry for dinner, and there was no call from Elias. He cleaned up his mess from making dinner, and there was no call from Elias. As the clock hit six thirty, Jon decided that if there was no call  _ from  _ Elias, then there should be one  _ to  _ him. 

He picked up on the first ring.  
“Hello, Jon.” He said. Someone said. Jon held the phone away from his ear for a moment, trying to process. 

“Elias?” Jon asked warily. 

“Who else?” Elias replied, sounding...annoyed. Elias sounded annoyed with Jon. Not once since their meeting had Elias ever sounded annoyed with Jon. It stung. 

“Sorry-” Jon said instinctively. “Uh, that meeting with Mister Wright, you were going to call me and tell me how it went. You didn’t call, and I got a little worried, so I-” 

“James Wright is dead.” Elias cut Jon off. 

“What?” Jon asked in disbelief. 

“Don’t worry, it shocked me too.” Elias said, sounding not the slightest bit shocked. “He had a heart attack at the tail end of our meeting, and I called an ambulance. I was discharged from the scene after they arrived.” 

Jon felt himself unravel. What was going on- Elias had probably never even  _ thought  _ of using a word like ‘discharged,’ and yet here he was. Maybe it was just an emotional response, Jon reasoned. Maybe he was just drained from having to see that happen, it would definitely be upsetting to be alone in a room with someone who was dying. 

“I’m sorry.” Jon said blankly. “Do you want to come over, have a glass of wine? I’d rather you not smoke in the flat, but you’re always welcome to drop by if you need-” 

Elias cut him off again. 

“That won’t be necessary, thank you. I’ll see you in the morning, Jon, goodnight.” 

The phone call ended. 

Jon panicked. That wasn’t how that conversation was supposed to go. Even if Elias  _ was  _ just in shock, he would never end a conversation so abruptly. At the very least, he would have said something like, “see ya tomorrow at six sharp, Sims.” Jon crumpled onto the floor of his kitchen. Something was wrong, or something was at least not right with Elias and obviously he wasn’t going to talk about it in this state and he’d refused Jon’s offer for help. Jonathan Sims fell asleep on his kitchen floor, crying over these facts. 

The morning was a rude awakening for Jon, who woke up not only late, but sore. He was early enough to change his shirt and run his hand through his hair enough to make it look neat, but there was nothing to be done about the bags under his eyes now.

He punched in as usual and returned to the library, where Elias was absent. This wasn’t out of the ordinary, as the man had a habit of being late. When the library door opened twenty minutes later, Jon looked up with a faint and expectant smile. He was met with an unexpected sight. 

Elias’s hair had been cut. Just the day before, it had been unkept and messy, waving down past his ears. It was now cleanly trimmed and slicked back. Furthermore, he was dressed in a white collared shirt, which was tucked in, and a green tie. Everything seemed to fit him so neatly, before he’d been content to shift between the same two striped shirts that happened to have collars. He seemed taller, he seemed older, and most of all, he seemed perpetually annoyed. All the warmth had drained from his face, Elias seemed painfully grey. 

“You got a haircut.” Jon said in surprise. 

“I got promoted.” Elias replied. “That’s what the meeting was about, I was given the position of Head of the Institute.” 

“Oh- Oh, well, congrats.” Jon smiled warmly. “I’ll still bring you tea, if you want it.” 

“I don’t.” 

Oh, Jon thought. For a moment, he wondered where he had gone wrong. What had he done to make Elias angry with him? Then he saw Elias’s eyes. They gleamed with someone else. Just with those words, the message was very clear. Elias was gone, he was never coming back, and there would be no closure as to how or why. 

“Well,” Jon said, fumbling for words. “I- yes, alright. Of course. Bye, then?”   
“Yes, I’ll be off for now.” Elias turned on his heel and left the library completely empty, save for Jon, who fought the urge to cry again. 

And so it went on, Elias staying distant from Jon and cold towards him in every interaction. After a week, Jon gave up completely. Three weeks more, and the head archivist went missing. When she did not return for a month, Elias returned to the library. 

Jon looked up out of instinct, just to see who it was, and looked back to the file he’d been scanning over. He didn’t bother with any sort of greeting, he’d noticed that it had earned him a polite nod at best. He was actually very surprised to find that Elias walked towards him, stopping at his table. 

“Can I help you?” Jon looked up tiredly. 

“You can, actually.” Elias said casually. “At this point, I don’t know that Gertrude will return from whatever excursion she’s off to. I’ve looked over a dozen applications for the job, and I’ve decided that you’re the best fit to be our new head Archivist.” 

“You sure she’s not coming back?” Jon asked in disbelief. Even though he’d never really met Gertrude- she’d had a tendency to keep to herself- she seemed sort of indestructible. 

“She travels with a phone, and thus far she’s failed to use it to notify me of her return.” Elias replied plainly. “So yes, I am sure. Congratulations on the promotion.” 

“Oh. Well, thank you.” Jon said numbly. “I- thank you.” 

“Certainly. You may inherit her office should you want to, I don’t much care. I’ll arrange for your research team to meet you tomorrow.” 

And with that, Elias left, and the library was as it had been for two months now. 

Jon met Sasha James first, who he had seen before at the institute. She’d been working here for a while, as long as Jon had. She seemed nice enough, though her handshake felt bitter. To say that Jon met Tim Stoker after he’d met Sasha would have been an exaggeration, as Tim sort of...toppled in on them. He was rowdy and playful, and he reminded Jon of his old friend who he refused to name, even in his head. And then Jon met Martin Blackwood. Apparently this was the name of the man who Elias had teased Jon about finding attractive a while ago. Just seeing him reminded Jon of everything leading up to this, and he wanted to cry. Blame went a thousand places, and he directed every emotion at the poor, newly hired Martin. 

Jon’s handshake with Martin was loose and cold, and to sell his chosen facade of disgust, Jon wiped his hand after it. As much as he  _ hated  _ Tim for being like [redacted], he hated Martin even more for reminding him of the last day he’d ever spent with his friend. He made a point to keep both of them out of his office as much as possible. Of course, it  _ had  _ to be a struggle. Martin insisted on popping in with mugs of tea, which Jon found painfully similar to the way he’d treated [redacted]. He never drank the tea. He let it get cold and bitter. He let himself be distant from everyone. 

Jon found that he didn’t mind the loneliness when he knew it kept him safe.


End file.
